


Snow Fox

by milkywayhitchhiker



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Gen, The Little Prince - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkywayhitchhiker/pseuds/milkywayhitchhiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is only with the heart that one can see right.<br/>What is essential is invisible to the eye.<br/>- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Fox

Thor was really excited about going to Jotunheim. 

He had never left Asgard in his short life before, but his father thought it was vital for his heir to be introduced to the other realms of Yggdarsil and vice versa. 

So on one mild winter day, not long before his 8th birthday, when Odin Allfather left Asgard in order to attend the annual mid-winter festivities in Jotunheim, his firstborn accompanied him as well.

His mother planted one last kiss on his forehead before she gave him to Odin, who seated him in front of himself in the saddle. Thor felt incredibly proud as they rode to the Bifrost, followed by the members of the court and their servants, with the flags of Asgard billowing behind them in the wind. 

The Rainbow Bridge jingled and changed its colour under the heavy footsteps of the horses and the closer they got to the golden gate, the more restless the young prince grew. He kept changing his position in the saddle, turning left and right until Odin placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Do not forget your place, son,” he warned him. “You are a prince and heir to Asgard – and a prince should never lose his composure. Do not embarrass me, Thor.”

The little prince nodded and sat up straight in the saddle. He sat still as a statue through the rest of the walk, with only his eyes still glittering in excitement. He kept repeating his father’s words to himself, committed to keep them in mind all the time.

The teleport took him by surprise though. A swirl of colours surrounded him, so bright he had to close his eyes against them. He felt suffocated for a second and when the strange feeling let go of him, he let out a loud gasp – but then he immediately sucked in his breath. A prince of Asgard should never show such signs of weakness, he thought. He looked up at his father who nodded in approval, and the others around them pretended that they didn’t hear a thing. 

When Thor looked around, his mouth dropped slightly open in awe. Snow was not an uncommon sight in Asgard, given the height of their mountains… but it was nothing compared to Jotunheim. It really was the realm of ice. 

The bridge led them to a great plain, big enough for the two delegations to meet. Everywhere he looked, Thor could only see glittering landscape, covered in snow so thickly, it was impossible to tell whether the hills where made of stone or snow.

And then the Jotun committee had arrived. ‘Frost Giants’, they were also called – and now Thor perfectly understood why. First of all, they were huge – a standing one could tower over an Asgardian ahorse – with blue skin that reminded Thor of frostbites and disturbing red eyes. 

Their lines parted to give way to the tallest Jotun Thor could see. He made his way straight towards them and the young prince kept his promise – no matter how hard he trembled on the inside, he never let that show on his features. He sat with his shoulders pulled back and his chin held up high and hoped that the expression on his face was rather royal.

Though the Jotun didn’t seem to notice him at all. His eyes, that were the color of blood, were locked on something above his head – his father’s eyes.

As he came closer and closer, the Asgardian horses picked up his scent and whined in protest, but the Allfather held his stallion with firm hands.

Then the Jotun stopped a couple of steps away from them and bowed his head.

“Welcome, Odin Allfather,” his voice was like a blizzard; cold and scratchy and made Thor want to shiver. 

His father returned the courtesies and then they were led to the palace of Jotunheim.

If Asgard is gold, then Jotunheim is silver, Thor thought as he looked around him. Every wall, every pillar, every staircase was made of pure ice, some light and transparent, some solid and clouded, all reflecting light with a silverish shine. It really was beautiful, but the little prince already missed the warm light of the Asgardian suns, the heat radiating from the golden ornaments, the blinding light reflected from the armors of the guards. Here the guards wore rough chainmail and leather instead of steel plates and Thor didn’t see any kind of weapon at their sides. 

Odin was invited to feast with Laufey – Thor wouldn’t have admitted to anyone that after all those lessons, he didn’t recognize the Jotun king the moment he greeted them – and the other distinguished guests that night. Thor was not allowed to accompany him due to his young age, so he was left in their chambers to rest and join his father on the morrow. 

“I’ll most likely return late. Do not leave the room,” Odin told him and Thor promised he wouldn’t. 

Of course this was a promise he couldn’t bear to keep. 

He sneaked out to one of the gardens behind the palace to take a closer look at the snow. There were high stone benches in the garden, standing around a slender fountain, all covered in frost like they were made of glass. 

Thor moved around carefully in this strange ice-world, brushing the snow off the bushes, watching the tiny clouds made by his breathing and listening to the sound of his footsteps.

It was then that the other appeared.

“Good evening,” said a voice.

“Good evening,” Thor replied and turned around, but he couldn’t see anyone around him.

“I’m right here,” said the other and stepped out from the shadow of the fountain. 

“Who are you?” asked the little prince and added, “You are very pretty to look at.”

Indeed he was. His dark crimson and silver velvet tunic emphasized the royal blue tone of his skin and the ruby of his eyes. He was a little bit smaller than Thor, his figure slender and lean, with silky black hair around his sharp face.

“I am a Jotun,” the child said. 

“What is your name?” Thor asked, but the Jotun only shook his head in reply. “I am Thor Odinson. Come and play with me! I’m bored.”

“I cannot play with you,” the Jotun said. “I am not tamed.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” the young prince apologized quickly. Then, after some thought, he asked, “What does that mean – tame?”

The boy measured him for some seconds, then asked, “What are you doing here?”

“My father is the king of Asgard and I accompanied him on his visit as his heir.”

The Jotun shook his head. “But what are you looking for here?”

“I’m looking for friends,” Thor replied after a moment of consideration. “What does that mean – tame?”

“It means to establish ties,” the other said. 

“To establish ties?”

“Just that. Now you are just a boy in my eyes –and I am just a Jotun to you. I have no need of you. And you have no need of me. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the Nine Realms. And to you, I shall be unique in all the Nine Realms.”

His voice and his words were far too serious for such a young boy – Thor guessed that they were about the same age. And he could’ve never come up with such wise words. 

“I think I understand,” he said, thinking about his home. “I have friends at home… I think we already tamed each other.”

The Jotun boy gazed at him for a long time. “Please – tame me!” he said. “If you want a friend, tame me.”

“What must I do to tame you?” Thor asked.

“You must be very patient,” replied the boy. “For tonight, you should sit down at a little distance from me – sit on that bench and I’ll sit on this. Let me look at you and  
do not say a word. Then, you can sit closer to me every day…”

So Thor did. He sat on the bench and let that strange boy examine him from head to toe until his cheeks and hands have gone numb from the cold. But he didn’t want to stand up.

Eventually, the Jotun boy slid down from his bench, turned on his heels and walked away without saying another word. 

*

The next day, Thor was introduced to the court of Jotunheim. 

“King Laufey, may I present my son and heir, Thor Odinson,” the Allfather announced and Thor stepped front and knelt down, just like he was taught. 

“Thank you for your generous hospitality, your Majesty,” he said the words that had been taught to him.

“You are most welcome, little prince,” Laufey said, his voice sounding a little less rigid now.

“What about your son? I didn’t have the honor to meet him until now,” Odin looked around, searching the crowd around the throne. 

“Unfortunately, my son is held up with his studies right now,” Laufey replied, his voice cool again. Odin nodded and didn’t mention him again. 

That night, Thor was honored by being allowed to attend the first half of the evening feast. He sat beside his father during the courses and couldn’t really talk to anyone – so his mind kept wandering away, back to his not-yet-friend. He wondered if he would be there in the garden, waiting for him. 

And he was, sitting on the same bench as yesterday. Thor settled on it as well, still at some distance from him. The Jotun didn’t protest and for a long time, they were sitting in silence.

“It would have been better to come back at the same hour,” the boy said finally. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry, I had a dinner to attend with my father and king Laufey,” Thor said a bit arrogantly.

“I don’t like being kept waiting,” the Jotun replied simply, but Thor could hear a touch of hurt in his voice. “You are a prince, Thor Odinson. You should observe the proper rites…”

“Rites?” Thor asked back, idly wondering where he learnt these expressions. 

“Yes,” the other sighed. “Rites are what make one day different from other days. Like these days among Jotuns,” he swirled his hand, taking in the frost-laced garden bathing in the mingled light of the torches and the moon. ”These are the days of the mid-winter festival. A rite we execute each and every year since the beginning of time. You can’t find such posh crowd strolling through our halls any other time in the year. This is the time when Jotunheim comes alive.”

Thor nodded and thought that the Jotun boy was very good at explaining – he was very good with words, actually.

“How did you learn all this?” he asked.

“I learnt them from books,” the Jotun replied. Thor thought about the last time he sat down to read a book by his own free will… well…

“And when did you read all these books?”

“Why, in my spare time,” now the boy really seemed perplexed. 

Thor recalled what he usually did in his free time; and among all the trainings with Sif and the Warriors Three, the countless hours spent playing in the immense gardens of the palace, the horse ridings and the rare occasions when he was sentenced to watch his father holding court, he couldn’t find a single moment when he was left alone for more than a couple of hours – which definitely wasn’t enough to read books.

“Did you read that… thing about taming someone in a book as well?”

“Yes, of course.”

“…Where I come from, it’s called friendship,” Thor said thoughtfully and saw the other frown. “And you don’t read about it in books, you just… experience it.”

“It’s not that easy for me,” the Jotun boy said quietly, with a shade of sadness darkening his tone, and suddenly Thor realised that he hadn't seen children ever since they arrived. The other Jotuns were all stiffly built and fully grown and despite his marked blue skin, the boy sitting next to him seemed alien - something that didn't quite belong there. He pulled the furs around him tighter and tried to hide the shiver running through him. He wouldn't meet Thor's eyes.

“You are very lonely, aren’t you,” the young prince said after a moment of silence, but got no answer. So they sat in silence again for some time.

“Tell me about them,” the Jotun said finally. “Tell me about your friends.”

And Thor did. He told him everything he could suddenly recall, from their greatest adventures to their funniest moments. And for the first time, he could hear the other boy laugh.

He kept talking for so long, he didn’t realize that the edge of the horizon was turning pink and they were still sitting on that bench, chatting freely like real friends. 

Like they’d known each other for ages. 

Thor suddenly realised that his hands were frostbitten and ice cold again. The Jotun watched him as he rubbed them together, trying to warm up. Then he made an elegant swirl with his hand – and a small green flame appeared in the middle of his palm.

Thor watched it with his mouth open. The other boy offered him his hand with the fire still dancing in it, his eyes fixed on the prince’s face, awaiting his reaction.

He gingerly placed his hands above the other’s – and immediately felt his numb fingers coming back to life. After a couple of moments, he could feel his hands again and the heat circled his whole body as well, warming him up from his head to his heels. When he took his hands away, the Jotun snapped his hand closed and when he opened it again, the flame was gone – leaving no trace behind.

“How… how did you do that?” he asked with disbelief in his voice.

The Jotun shrugged and smoothed one of his ebony locks back behind his ears. “I read loads of books, I have no friends and I am a quite gifted magician. That’s all you need to know about me.”

“That’s not true,” Thor shook his head. “You have a friend. You have me.”

This time, the boy gave him a smile that was just breathtaking in Thor’s opinion before hopping off the bench and disappearing among the snowy bushes.

*

Their third day was the last they spent in Jotunheim.

Their hosts prepared a magnificent meal for them – the feast started early in the afternoon and lasted until nightfall. Then they took the tables away and made room for dancing. 

Thor pretended that he was disappointed for being sent to bed after the first hour of the dance.

He rushed to the garden – and found no trace of his friend.

He sat down on their bench with a heavy heart until he heard the footsteps he’s been expecting so eagerly.

The Jotun boy sat down right next to him. From the ragged way of his breathing and how he kept rubbing his face nervously, Thor could tell that he’s been crying.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I know,” said the other and finally raised his head to look at him. His ruby eyes locked with Thor’s crystal blue ones and his lips curled into a half-hearted smile.

“You have tamed me,” he said and Thor’s heart lifted and sunk at the same time.

“But now it’s making you cry! It has done you no good at all!”

“It has done me good,” said the Jotun. “As you said, I was so very lonely. But now I have you. I have the memories and now I can dream about meeting you again. Until now, the mid-winter feast was nothing special for me – from now on, it will be a real celebration. I’ll be celebrating our friendship. I want to give you a present in return. Something that will make you remember me… and maybe sometimes, when you are with your friends, you will close your eyes for a moment and imagine that I’m standing next to you, laughing with you. And I will. Because I’m giving you my last secret. I’ll tell you my name.”

“My name is Loki.”

“Loki,” Thor repeated, so that he would be sure to remember. 

He closed his eyes, just like Loki said he would and tried to picture him among his friends. But there was something wrong with the image – he couldn’t see the blue-skinned Jotun with ruby eyes in front of him. The boy in his head had the same raven hair as Loki did, but his skin was pale and glimmering like the snow and his eyes were spectacular - dark green like pine trees. 

He could hear Loki chuckle, so Thor opened his eyes – and all the words froze in his throat.

The boy sitting next to him was not the Jotun Thor met two days ago. He looked just like the one in Thor’s mind – pale alabaster skin, raven hair, pink cheeks, emerald eyes. Only his crimson and silver clothes could prove that it was still Loki. And when he smiled, Thor’s doubts had all faded. 

It was definitely Loki. But now, he looked more like an Asgardian. For a second, Thor felt a pang in his chest and then the realization hit him: if he'd ever had a brother, he would’ve wanted him to look like Loki. 

“It is only with the heart that one can see right,” Loki said, his smile illuminating his face. “What is essential is invisible to the eye.”

“What is essential is invisible to the eye,” the prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”

“You read this in a book too, didn’t you?” Thor asked. Loki laughed and made a face. Then he jumped off the bench and headed off. But after a couple of steps, he stopped and turned back.

“Goodbye, Thor,” Loki said.

“Goodbye, Loki,” Thor replied. 

Loki dipped his head and walked away.

**

“Thor! Thor?! THOR!”

The door of his bedchamber burst open and Sif was standing in the doorway, already dressed in her best armor. 

“Aren’t you up yet? You should be! We’re leaving at sunrise-”

“Sif, do you have the slightest idea of what the time is?” Thor grunted, looking out his window – and seeing nothing but the dark, starry night. Asgard was still sleeping peacefully beneath them.

“I know, but you have to get ready and eat something as well! And I know you boys like to fill up before a long day’s ride. I’ve seen Volstagg countless times before battle. He, Fandral and Hogun always do the same: wake up, polish weapons, go to the kitchens, snatch as much food as possible, wolf it down, get changed into armor, look after horses, mount them, ride to battle, fight like an animal, slay enemy, repeat until necessary, return home, celebrate victory,” Sif listed with a shrug, counting the steps on her fingers.

“Observe the proper rites…” Thor murmured to himself and ignored Sif’s questioning glance. Instead, he made his way to the dining hall, where the Warriors Three were already having breakfast. 

Thor sat down next to them and piled food on his plate.

“How are you feeling, my prince?” Fandral asked casually. Thor was chewing, so he just shrugged and rolled his eyes in answer, which could’ve meant anything.

He couldn’t see his mother entering the room, but suddenly there was someone standing behind him, squeezing his shoulders. 

“Good morning, my queen,” Sif stood and bowed her head, with the Warriors Three quickly following. Thor turned to face her and could now see the dark circles under his mother’s eyes.

“You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you, mother?” he asked quietly.

Frigga’s smile was almost pained as she shook her head. 

“Why not?”

“Neither did your father,” Frigga said like it would explain everything.

“He was making the final adjustments, I believe. I heard him and Tyr talking in the map room,” Hogun nodded.

“Still, there was no reason for you to stay awake, mother,” Thor insisted. “You should’ve got some sleep-”

“How?” Frigga interrupted him, her voice pitched high. “By the Nine, how was I supposed to rest? We are at war with Jotunheim! My husband and my son are riding to battle today, leading our host against Laufey’s. How could I be able to sleep when I don’t know how many of you will return?” She carefully managed to speak in general, like she was concerned about every single soldier of Asgard. Maybe she truly was, but the way she took Thor’s hand in hers and clung to it like she was never letting go spoke louder than any of her words.

“You needn’t worry, my queen,” Sif assured her, totally confident. “We may be at war, but the Frost Giants don’t stand a chance against us.”

Frigga didn’t look convinced at all, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She sat next to her son, still holding his hand in hers, occasionally stroking his hair  
or his cheek. Thor squeezed her hand reassuringly, trying his best to calm her.

“Your lord father wanted you to join him because it will be one of Asgard’s greatest victories when we defeat Jotunheim once and for all,” Fandral turned to Thor. “And your young age is going to gain you even more fame and glory.”

“Hahh! I was three years younger than him when I tasted battle for the first time!” Volstagg joined in, waving a pheasant leg to emphasize his word. “I remember, I was only fifteen-”

“Was that the time when you were mistaken for a boar and you had to hide in the swamps from the hunters and that pack of goblins attacked you?” Hogun asked in his usual reserved voice and a moment later the room was echoing from Thor, Sif and Fandral’s laughter, Volstagg’s angry roar and Hogun’s shouted replies. Even the queen managed a tired smile at that. 

As he watched his friends, Thor closed his eyes for a moment, as he did ever so often, and pictured a face in front of him.

It happened so many years ago, the other must have changed, just like he did, but the image in his mind kept changing as well. And Thor wished with all of his heart that it still depicted reality.

*

This time Thor was less excited while they were marching towards the Bifrost. Even the music of the Rainbow Bridge sounded false to him. Odin was also grim and mute beside him.

He saw the same blinding colors, felt the usual suffocating sensation for a moment – and then the cold wind on his face.

They arrived on the same plain they did ten years ago. But this time instead of a welcoming delegation, they were standing in front of an army of Frost Giants. 

The Allfather’s host lined up as well behind them. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

After a couple of tense minutes, Thor could see the Jotun lines part to give way to two tall figures on horseback.

“Looks like Thor’s not the only crown prince who’d like to gain glory in battle,” Fandral remarked next to them and Thor’s eyes darted to the other prince’s face.

“Yes, there’s Laufey’s son,” Odin agreed grimly. “As I heard, he’s a talented sorcerer. He’s called-”

“Loki.”

Thor’s voice was no more than a sigh, but he could feel the others turning towards him questioningly.

He didn’t want to explain how he knew that. His eyes were fixed on Loki as he and his father took their places in front of their host. 

He was in his Jotun form, but Thor recognized him immediately – he was still identical with the picture in his head.

Ruby-emerald eyes locked with crystal blue ones and despite the distance between them, Thor could feel Loki’s broken smile. And he was sure the same sentence echoed in their minds.

_“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the adapted lines from The Little Prince. Thank Monsieur Saint-Exupéry for those ^^


End file.
